


A Brighter Life(?)

by Manjuuichi



Category: ONE OK ROCK
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Band Fic, Bromance, Not a BL, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-09-23 10:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manjuuichi/pseuds/Manjuuichi
Summary: Yamashita Toru, a police in Japan who suddenly had to keep an eye on an inmate whom he never expected would appear before him. An inmate that made his life gone upside down step by step along with his will to change the life of the said inmate.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> As I said in the tags, this fic is NOT a BL, but only a bromance with some inappropriate language and actions that unfit to children.
> 
> Taka's appearance is around 2013 and 2014.
> 
> Toru's appearance is the same as he had in Mighty Long Fall 2014.

The coldest night of December arrived, the streets were frozen, the breeze wind blew every single leaf it could ask to dance along, and a blond-haired man watched his TV with his sleepy eyes. Not an important news he watched like a car explosion, also not about a teenager who had been arrested, but an unimportant news which usually most of people wouldn't be willingly waste their so precious time to watch that kind of news. And that man named Yamashita Toru—having too much free time—did watch the news—hands busily cracking some peanuts as a late night's snack—only for gazing at the newsreader whom he loves—his lover.

 _“…and so the nearest zoo workers could catch the running chipmong—ah, chipmunks,”_ the man chuckled, his lover made a cute mistake, he should keep that in his mind and bring that up to tease his lover someday, _“and then, a happy news for us, this year's cherry blossoms—_ "

RRIIIIINGGG

Toru groaned, his _date_ with his girlfriend was interrupted by the one and only his cellphone. Being a cop surely takes their quality time like what he was doing right now. Trapped in the office in a cold night instead of cuddling with his lover.

_“—and the second week—”_

“Yes, Yamashita speaking,” he held his cellphone near his ear, his eyes still on the TV, looking at the picture of cherry blossoms. He would like to go there, his girlfriend loves cherry blossoms so much and he wanted to grant that simple request, he should make this task as a short in time work so he has some free time to go for _hanami_. That time, he was indeed listening to his superior's rough voice, however, his eyes fell to the face of his lover, inwardly wondered how much he missed his girlfriend. But again, he had to be patient, there was something much more important here, and as a good cop, he need to be responsible for every works he was given.

“An inmate whom I will watch right? He is on his way?” The person whom he talked to gave a yes.

_“—the man whom cops just arrested—”_

He smiled, neither because of his work was just began—and that's meant its finishes will also come closer to him—nor because of feeling proud of his division arrested the perpetrator who exploded a car, but because his girlfriend just made a serious expression which was so cute for him considering she just made a clumsy mistake minutes ago.

“Ah… okay, will Yamato-san give the whole details about the inmate—”

_Knock knock._

Toru halted his phone, his superior did say Yamato—who dropped the inmate off—was already in his half-way the office by the time he phoned Toru.

“—wait, I think he’s here—fuck! He hung up!” Toru screeched, cursing over his superior for cutting his _quality time_ and now leaving him clueless about the work except the main jobdesc. Again he sighed, he'd prefer to hear the detail directly than read the words which are make his eyes spinning, that's why he hates this superior with all his might and mean.

“Toru-kun?” said someone behind the door. That person knocked again for having no one answered his first knocks. “Are you there?”

“Comin'!”

_“—he committed suicide right after got interrogated by the cops this evening—"_

The news was not finished yet but Toru wasn't listening—staring at it any longer, he wheeled toward the door and opened that layer. The said Yamato was there, stood before him with some other men at his back whom Toru recognized two of them as officers. Toru raised his eyebrows, the said inmate was nowhere to be found, or it was because of that inmate's body is too small and was blocked by Yamato's huge build. “Yo, Toru-kun, watching your lover again?”

“Nah,” Toru waved his hand, didn't want to talk about his girlfriend in the middle of work, “so, where is he?” he said, turned his back facing Yamato and was grabbing the remote, intended to turn the TV which was showing the perpetrator’s face beside his lover's face—a teenager with messy dark hair—off.

_“—the uppers of the division rejected all the interviews—”_

“Here he is.”

Toru's finger stopped when he was about to press a red button only to know the appearance of the inmate, he let his lover speaking non-stop while his attention drifted to Yamato whose body stepped aside revealing what was hidden there meanwhile his girlfriend’s voice echoing in his ears as back sound, _“—he committed suicide by poisoning himself with cyanide—”_ therein lay, a young man stood without handcuffs with his oversized black pullover with messy dark hair. Although the young man's eyes were blocked by his wavy hair, their eyes did meet and Toru felt time around him was going slower if he couldn't say it was stopped. He was stupefied, he didn't know this 15 years old-looked boy, he never met him, but his face is way too similar with someone. Someone he just saw like a glimpse time ago.

And what was he saw a moment ago?

The news.

Which was talking about a man who committed suicide.

_“—Moriuchi Takahiro is now buried in his hometown. That's all for tonight, good night.”_

Toru's eyes shifted from the inmate to the TV, and to the inmate, then back again to the TV even now the news was ended and now was showing the program’s credits, his eyes could manage to steal a glance at the picture of  the said culprit whose face is exactly the same as the young man whose feet stood before him.

He found nothing to be doubted, this inmate and the suicide man are the same person.

Cognizing that, Toru couldn't help but widened his eyes and stepped back. His mind were busy with a lot of thoughts, how come an inmate whom media stated the he died of suicide in hours ago was now here? Standing healthy and unscathed? Ghost? What did he do wrong for being haunted by a suicide man? Well, why did Yamato bring him a ghost in the first place?!

_“Want to be fairer? Just use our—”_

Toru said nothing. Nor did something. The advertisement about a whitening suplement went into his left ear and out from his right ear, passing his ears without leaving any trace because Toru wasn't listening at the TV again. His mind went to somewhere afar, certainly not its right place for having a ghost stood before him.

And moreover, he had to watch this _ghost_.

.

* * *

.

Toru's sleepy eyes scanned Moriuchi Takahiro's small build from a corner where he and Yamato was there. He stuffed Yamato there after he had shooed the other cops and was buzzing over something important about the _fact_ he was just heard minutes ago and the _reality_ he had to face seconds ago.

“His suicide is fake,” said Yamato with calm face and tone, that cop folded his arms and leant his back against the wall, “he is a fall guy the uppers made in order to solve—”

“ ** _—fall guy?_** You all make a fall guy!? The heck the case is—” Toru cut scathingly, he narrowed his sleepy eyes forming a line.

“—chill, we do dirt works too, remember?”

Toru's gaze fell to the young man who just sat calmly looking at his feet. To be honest it wasn't his first case mingling with fall guys, but something inside of his stomach unclenched made some cold sensation knowing the scapegoat this time is a teenager-like man with small build. It discomforted him for somehow. “It's unusual for you to concern about that, you're the dirtiest,” Yamato's voice snapped him back. Toru didn't answer that statement.

“Then,” Toru cleared his throat first, “what is his case?”

“Remember about the car that exploded yesterday?” Toru gulped, that case was stated to be an accident for the lack of evidence which led that event to a planned crime, but he had heard a rumor about the uppers insisted that it was a planned crime along with an attempt to hurt others. “In order to bring that event into our hands, we need him so the case won't be closed as an accident occasion,” explained Yamato.

Toru lost his words. He never expected the uppers will choose a fall guy so the path which led them to be in charge of the case would be opened. It was out of the box and no one expects that. Well, he thought, it was because no one expects that, the uppers do that.

“Why him?” asked Toru.

“Ask him directly,” replied Yamato and it made Toru frowned for not pleased with Yamato's answer, “I can do nothing but wish you a good luck buddy,” said Yamato, patted Toru's shoulder, padded toward this Moriuchi Takahiro guy and was speaking a word to him before made his way left the room, “I'll get going home, see ya,” he said and left the astonished Yamashita Toru and the young man whose eyes gazed at Toru intensely.

“Excuse me… err, officer- _no_ - _ossan_ —” Moriuchi Takahiro spoke—unexpectedly with clear and high-pitched voice—not realizing how Toru's lips were twitched for hearing that _ossan_ , “we… will I sleep here?” asked the scapegoat but Toru didn’t answer right away, instead he gazed this young man. He has messy dark hair that looked like a desperate person despite having glimmering black eyes that looked innocent. _Looked exactly like a kid_. His body is so small too, he might not be able to reach Toru's eyes. Not only short but also he has no fats, as if he had nothing but skin and bones. And despite having worth-to-be-pitied build, he wore good and expensive-looked clothes, not to mention his fair skin like the person in that whitening advertisement. “Wait… what Yamato has called you… Toru-san, right?”

“ _Hai?_ ”

Takahiro snorted for being ignored by his guardian.

“I have asked you where I will be sleeping.”

“Ah…” Toru avoided his eyes from Takahiro, “in my place.”

A long breath was heard from Takahiro, he frowned for Toru didn't know why but he was sure it wasn't in a good meaning, “We have to make our fall guy natural, like an innocent citizen because you are deserved to, and,” Toru halted, he approached Takahiro who sat comfortably on a couch, “unfortunately you have to lose your hair, we will go to a certain barbershop first so your appearance won't be recognized by your acquaintance—”

“They said my parents will still recognize me and they can come whenever they want and I want!”

“—except your parents, yes,” Toru completed his cut words, Takahiro really is a brat after all.

The scapegoat said nothing after that therefore Toru started to pack his belongings. He knew Takahiro's belongings were already in his unit, waited to be opened so all he should shoulder was only his goods. He rolled his eyes to find the clock, 11 pm, which was meant Tomoya would still at the shop. Kanki Tomoya, a cop that has double task—as an ordinary cop and as a barber whose task is changing inmates and scapegoat's appearance, his barbershop was where they will be going. “Let's go,” said Toru padding his way for two pads before he turned around, made Takahiro who just a step behind him startled for that sudden movement of his. Toru's hand went over the scapegoat's neck, reaching his hoodie and pulled it on covering Takahiro's curls, “put your head cover on, and,” Toru shoved his hand, fished a white sterile mask, “wear this,” said he handing the mask to the smaller, he waited until Takahiro's mask was properly put on, and turned around again, “okay, let's go.”

.

* * *

.

“Welcome to my house.”

Toru clicked the door open, letting Takahiro—now short-spiky haired—walked in first. While Toru was busy with his shoes, Takahiro already made his way to the corridor, walked through to the living room. He would be staying here, in a house—claimed as Toru's—for a while. He looked at the ceiling, white and plain with CCTVs in every its corner, watching him—and Toru like hawks watch their prey, afraid to lose their asses.

“Moriuchi-san, please sit,” Toru ordered, the cop already sat on a chair of a dining table with a paper before him, not too thick, around three-five sheets with words were printed neatly and clearly with black ink. In its footnote, a line was lay there, a space for him to signature, as the contract for being always cooperate with the cops, “I'll explain what you have to do and which you cannot.”

Taka obeyed, he silently padded closer to the blond cop and plopped his ass on the chair across Toru, ready to hear whatever Toru will explain.

As he thought, it isn't Toru's house after all, it’s cops' unit for them keeping their fall guys to live until the certain period or as a guest home. It was used by Toru for a year so Toru called it as his and surprisingly Toru is the son of the head cop in this city. As the promise the cops had given to him, his parents could visit him whenever they want in common time, he could also contact them with a phone they had given—of course with some technology that keeping an eye of whomever he contacted. He will be remain living as Morita Hiroki—picked by himself—and with different ID and livings. Although his name was changed, Toru made a clear agreement that he would and still called him as Moriuchi Takahiro in their house, so did the other cops so Taka won't lost his true identity.

Toru had explained him a lot of things, about how big the gap between his old life and the life he will be living, however, the thing which made Taka was most surprised is the fact that Toru is younger than him. “Don't lie, you can't be 25!” snarled Toru after he had received Taka's old ID to trade it with the new one.

“As if I could!” snarled Taka.

Toru grunted, “Whatsoever your age is, please sign here,” with his index finger, Toru pointed the line and handed Taka the ballpoint.

Takahiro took that and did what he told to while snatching a quick glance at the younger, “Say… why are you living here?” said Takahiro while signing the papers, he was as curious as a kid who just saw a new machine was lay before him. “It is owned by police.”

“It's a thing you don't need to know,” the cop replied.

Taka just snorted for that, he thought the guardian the police had given to him could be considered as a living friends, roommate, or something like that since they will live together for such a long period but Toru—for him—kept distance from him, spreading ‘I won't be friendly to you,’ or ‘We are supposed not to become close,’ aura.

“Okay,” Taka tilted his shoulders unconcernedly.

“But let's make a trade,” said Toru so sudden, “I'll tell the answer, so do you.”

Taka blinked, he didn't expect Toru would come with a deal, “What do you want to know?”

Again, Toru fell silent for a moment, his eyes roamed to Takahiro's face, he had been wondering this question right after the first second he was told that Takahiro is their fall guy this time and that question had been ringing inside his head until now, “Why did they chose you?” Toru finally said, he taunted his fingers, beckoning how serious this conversation was. “The fact is, you are not my first scapegoat, and every scapegoat whom I ever watched, they really did something so they were picked,” Toru explained slowly, he took the papers and put them in a folder which was marked ‘MORIUCHI TAKAHIRO' at the front, “just… what's yours?”

Takahiro let a long sigh out, apparently not every cop knows his case and the reason behind this event, but no one tells him not to spit it out to anyone as well, moreover, he didn't mind telling his story, “Deal, you spill the beans first.”

“I was suspended until a week ago,” said Toru, “something wrong happened with the last case and… let's say my former house is unable to be used for then until now, and since my old man is the head, he lent me this house, finish. A short uninteresting story right?”

Taka snorted roughly, “You tricked me,” he let a chuckle out, “I thought it’s something big so you refused to tell me.”

Toru lifted his shoulders.

Then the room went larger so sudden as Taka’s chuckles abated. At that time, Toru realized, Taka had been hiding something about himself and now he was wondering whether he will reveal it to Toru—who was a stranger or not.

“I attempted a suicide,” Takahiro's voice eventually came echoing in the silent room, “your division took me, kept me so I won't do that again, and that’s how you are ended up mingling with me, to watch my every moves.”

Toru's mouth suddenly felt dry, his inhaled oxygen was now gone from his lungs. He never, in his lifetime, met a person who wants to die even though he is a cop, even though he heard so many cases about suicide, read the news—which is so much—that spread over internet, it was all just like a story to him. A story in which he never be involved in even in his wildest dream.

“Why—” he wanted to ask, but his throat didn't cooperate, it was hurt as if the peanut which he ate was there, hanging there with a thin sheet, corking his saying.

“You didn't tell everything right?” said Taka, he drew a small smile for having Toru said nothing. “So do I.”

“I—” Toru lost his words. He just stared at Taka whose butt was lifted from the chair.

“I’ll use the main bedroom since it’ll be my house,” said Takahiro, “have a good night, Toru-san.”

* * *

 

To be Continued


	2. Two

The next morning in the scapegoat's house was extremely quiet. With Taka—even he was looked unwell—offered himself to make the breakfast, a great breakfast—usual for Taka but for Toru who had been live alone in past one year, it was spectacular. The dead silent came no sooner after Toru's first spoon, they fell into deep silent and only the sounds of cutlery that could be heard. Each of them was busying themselves with the dish and their own mind. Taka with his debate with his mind, and Toru with his back was aching like an old man for sleeping on the couch. He did sleep on the couch although Taka had blessed him with a _good night_ , he claimed the main bed room, and made Toru slept on the couch since the guest room hadn't been cleaned for a year and the dust was mounted until an inch thick blanketing the bed.

That event made Toru came up with a conclusion: Taka is a pure evil.

Well, let it be, “I have to go somewhere,” blurted Toru breaking the silent when his plate was swept cleanly. Hearing that, Takahiro who was spooning his omelet stopped his half-rose hand. He lifted one eyebrow, questioning where Toru will go without words. “Office,” said the cop lightly, “your papers have to be submitted so your new ID can be handed.”

“Oh,” Taka huffed, “I want to go somewhere as well,” said he uttering the result of the debate, this time whose eyebrow which was lifted was Toru's, “applying for a job.”

“Why all of sudden?” said Toru.

Taka just shrugged.

“You really do want a job?” asked Toru to make sure what he is hearing. Yesterday, Taka was perfectly informed that his livings are fully paid, he won't need even a cent to live his life. But this shorty wants to work? Toru can't understand him.

“Can't I?” asked Taka inclining his head, Toru never told him a thing not to seek for a job, the only thing Toru told him is only to not tell anyone about his role as a fall guy without the uppers’ permission. “You never told me to not.”

Feeling beaten, Toru choose to not answer, he fished his phone instead, pressed some buttons, and was phoning someone, “It's me,” said he to someone whom he connected with, “he wants a job, is that okay?” asked Toru, got up from his seat, walked away from the dining table and disappearing from Taka's sight.

Taka—left behind—just snorted unpleased, he ditched his spoon to the empty plate making a twang sound. Last night, he scanned Toru's ex-bedroom and nothing interesting he found except a broken white-guitar. That guitar was stood proudly on the corner without dust blanketing it. By the time he touched the guitar, something inside him was tingled, his mind screamed to not touch the guitar any longer or else he cannot be stopped, but his heart said the otherwise, he wanted to touch it longer, played it ‘till he fell asleep of tiredness. So he asked Toru. That's his decision.

“What kind of work is it?” Toru's blond head popped from a room, he still had his phone near his ear.

“Singer,” said Taka, “in a bar, evening ‘till midnight, also… I want to borrow your guitar, that broken white one in the bedroom.”

“You are a singer?” asked Toru again. “Never heard about that, and didn't see that coming.”

“I was,” Taka corrected, he got up, walked around the table, took the empty plates, and was walking to the sink, “I stopped, so I don't need to mention it, right?”

Toru didn't reply, nor answering the phone which was calling for his name for times, he just watched Taka did the dish, followed Taka’s every moves with his sleepy eyes. Right when Taka turned the tap on, Toru had his eyes stopped to oversee Taka and place the phone on his ear again, “Singer, in a bar,” he reported to whomever he talked with his risen voice so the sound of the dishes which were did by Taka didn't interrupt the flow of information and they won't have any miscommunication, “until night… I don't know yet—what?!” Toru arose his voice, made Taka rolled his eyes to him, obviously curious what they were talking about. “No, you can't—shit!” cursed Toru, throwing his phone to the couch.

“Hm?”

“My old man wants me to watch you 24/7,” said Toru, he placed his hands on hips, “I have to go with you, as a regular customer I suppose.”

The clang sounds of the plates being cleaned was not could be heard anymore, Taka stopped his hands, letting the water drops flew from the tap to the sink without feeling regret for wasting the water or jacking the bill up—cops paying anyway—dumbfounded looking at Toru. For the whole three minutes, Taka let the room filled with the sound of flowing water, said nothing, did nothing but stared at Toru and vice versa.

“You… you don't mean it, right?” asked Taka with throaty voice whose face obviously in pure horror.

“I do, sorry,” said Toru hard-facedly.

Taka let a long sigh, he knew for sure the cop wasn't left with a choice as well, but having him watched for all day long is just too much. He could endure if it were just became a roommate with that bored-gachapin-shitty face, but having him all the time? It is a no-no. “Police surely have too much free time,” Taka mocked, “or is it just you?” asked Taka unconcernedly, he rolled his eyes to the dishes again, didn't pay any attention toward his guardian any longer, he just blurted his mind out, without thinking any further, without caring about how Toru felt, without looking at the cop whose jaw hardened.

“Anyhow,” eventually Toru said, “let's go to the said bar together, I will not be long, wait patiently would you?”

Taka nodded.

.

* * *

.

In an office not too far from the cops' house, in the largest room where top secret’s files were storage, a man in his sixties sat linking his fingers, his several strands started to get white, wrinkles marred his face, and his face bones is looked strict. That man, Yamashita Toru's father well known as The Head Cop, sat there, behind a huge wooden table facing his own son whose hands holding an envelope. His son—whose eyes is looked way too similar with him—stood fidgeting, a bit nervous for making a formal appearance with his own father in superior-subordinate relationship.

“How is he?” said the father. He loosened his linked fingers a bit, rested his head over those fingers, and was glancing his kid over there.

Toru walked forward, he had leant the brown envelope on his father’s table before he stepped back again. “Good? Nothing special and he behaves quite well,” reported Toru, “despite being so evil and weird.”

“Weird?” asked the head cop, he didn't have to know what this _evil_ meant, since the CCTVs in the living room had recorded Toru who slept on the couch. “What do you mean?”

“The job thing,” said Toru short. The Head Cop nodded vaguely, it was the first time they had their fall guy beg for job. It was natural for Toru for feeling odd about this case—person, “ah, and also, he gets A plus for responding every calls I made with his new name. Although I just used it for two times so far.”

“Ah… what a man,” The Head Cop praised, “anything else?”

The room went silent. Toru stared down to his feet, tried to find something he should report, but nothing popped out, he found nothing, everything went smooth as a baby skin with Taka being cooperate, obeyed the rules, everything went okay, and that's why Toru felt uneasy. It shouldn't be this peaceful, it shouldn't be this easy. It made him uneasy because it feels like the silent peace before a storm.

“About the job thing…” Toru eventually stated after considering one-two things, he straightened his head, looking at his father directly, “I still don't understand why did you really overprotective toward him. You never done that before, and… to watch him 24/7, kinda… imprison him.”

The head cop grunted, he knew Toru would ask this kind of question, “You heard that he attempted suicide?” Toru nodded. “I suppose you did.”

“So why?” Toru frowned, didn't see where this chat was brought to.

“He didn't try to kill himself once,” his dad said, “he tried for countless times, jump over the building, cyanide, poison, cut his wrist, he ever did that even under police's nose, he did stop for a while, however, I can't guarantee he wouldn't do that again,” the head cop rested his head against the chair, “your mission is actually two missions, guard him as a cop-fall guy and protect him as human-human,” with that, Toru lost his tongue, just knowing Taka had tried to kill himself—which he thought only once—made him zip his lips in surprise, and the fact that he did it for times is the next thing Toru knows. So what next? That he was abused or something else so he was brought like that?

“I—” Toru stopped, he didn't dare to ask further, he was unsure whether he could endure whatever feeling he might feel or not, “I'll take my leave then,” he said with his aching chest, walked away, and was swinging the door open, but…

“Toru,” The Head Cop said, preventing Toru to open the door. Toru did neither turn around nor open the door, he stood still, his back facing his talking father, “you can't let your guard off for the second times.”

Toru didn’t answer immediately, he had his hand put on the door knob, he turned the door slowly without making any chatter, pulled the layer half-open, “I know,” he said, swung the door completely open, walked outside and slammed the door, leaving the room with his father’s hand held a photo, looking at the sheet with his similar to his son's heavy-lidded eyes.

.

* * *

.

The sun began to set, and Taka went speechless in his footing. Before him, therein lay a big building, crowds filled its inside, chattering loudly and pissing anyone who doesn't like crowd off, like Taka. Not the huge size of the building that made him lost his tongue, nor the crowds made him dizzy. But the reason why the person beside him took him to this place.

“Shopping?” Taka asked, his face—filled with doubtful expression—dramatically turned to Toru, disbelief what he had heard a second ago. “You gotta be joking me,” he hissed, “are you an adolescence girl or what?”

“I'm not a joker person for your information,” Toru made his way, “besides, who wants to go shopping with another man when he has girlfriend to spend his time with?”

Taka didn’t reply. He knew, every Toru's do is his task for watching him, or at least, to make sure police's plan about that exploding car went smooth with him being a fall guy. He was completely aware that, he was forced to obey every single word Toru said when it is linked with him being the police's scapegoat. And this shopping thing indeed was needed. Toru explained him that his things shouldn't be recognized by his acquaintance, therefore he needed to bought new clothes and a lot of stuffs, including his new room's interior—although the younger didn't mention when they will go. About his old goods, he only was permitted to use his old goods inside house, only Toru who was allowed to see that. And that will explain why Taka had Toru's oversize clothes on him right now. “Well, sorry for being an obstacle for you to spend your quality time with your lover,” Taka murmured behind Toru's back, making the taller turned around raising one his eyebrow like _what are you saying just now?_ And Taka shook his head for that, juxtaposed his feet with Toru's.

Without any further harsh words and fights, they walked side by side, Taka just obeyed—feeling tired for picking fight over the cop—sorting some clothes, buy this and that until the bag he had brought was reaching five-seven bags. Toru surely made him buy a lot of stuffs since—from Taka's viewpoint—the cop wanted to complete his task as soon as possible, so he can have his quality time with his girlfriend perhaps. It was when the outside was covered in dark theme—it got really late because Taka was got lost—lamps started to be turned on when they finally got out from the mall. Taka held four of seven bags of his, waiting for their bus, while Toru stood beside him, talking to the phone—girlfriend—sickeningly sweet.

“I'm on a mission,” said the cop, “hm, someone looked after my meals, don't worry,” Taka rolled his eyes noticing who this _someone_ Toru had mentioned was, “yeah I know, I'm on the way, there’s—”

“—Takahiro?” someone's voice—belonged to a man—from the crowd made Toru's heart sank and his organs went upside down. Almost a day went well and Taka wasn't recognized by anyone. But why now? When he finally can call it a day? When he can be proud for having a peaceful day? He immediately lost his lovely words to be said to his lover. With the phone still on his ear, he turned, facing Taka who surprisingly didn't even flinch for that call. The shorter was just stood with his hands were slumped holding the bags, he didn't turn his head at the voice's direction like others do as an unconscious movement when their name is called. Inwardly, Toru praised Taka for his professionalism reaction.

_“Toru?”_

His lover spoke, calling his name out but Toru paid no heed toward her any longer. With his heartbeat faster than ordinary beats he should have, he waited with his sleepy-eyes glued on the smaller, kept hoping that the voice would pass without any fuss. Seconds passed, apparently the person who just spoke Taka's real name didn't satisfy with the no-reaction he was given and approached Taka instead.

“Did you call me?” asked Taka when someone tapped his shoulder, called _Takahiro_ out.

“You… are Moriuchi Takahiro… right?” said the man uncertainly.

Taka shook his head, “I'm afraid you had mistaken me for someone,” facilely Taka spoke, looking in the man's eyes with his honest-like black eyes which people would be fallen with his foxy trick.

“But you really are looked like him, there's no way I made a mistake,” said the man stubbornly for someone who asked with uncertain tone and became the trigger of Taka's anger. And that is bad. If Taka's temper was rising, this whoever guy might be spotted something that really Taka.

So he took part. He stepped forward and pulled Taka’s angry shoulder, “Sorry,” he said slowly for buying a glimpse addition time for his brain to think what he should say, and straightway, his lover spoke near his ear, _“Toru? You're still there? How about our date?”_ thence, someone inside his head turned the lamp on, giving him a spectacularly hilarious idea.

“You are bothering our date, please leave.”

“Huh?” three people, three people said that in a row, the stranger man, Taka—inwardly—and Toru's lover—loudly.

“Da-date? You two—”

“Right, darling?” said Toru disgustingly, he gave a little massage on Taka's shoulder telling him to follow the script he just made.

Taka gulped his spit roughly wetting his dry throat, “E-exactly…” muttered Taka with a forced smile.

The man scratched his neck awkwardly, “The-then you can't be Takahiro whom I know,” said he, “he is way too pervert to be… you know,” he huffed roughly, “he is died anyway, my bad, I'm sorry for disturbing you,” said he bowing deeply and left the duo all dumbfounded.

“Pervert he said,” said Toru, “you—”

“Cut it out!” snarled Taka so sudden making Toru jumped a bit in his footing. “Don't you dare to brag that out, more importantly, what's with that date?! I'm not a fucking homo!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, made the pedestrian turned their head on him wondering what quarrel they just had.

Toru put his palms facing Taka defending himself over the angry Taka, “It was just crossed in my mind, it's crucial you know!” Toru started to argue. “You're saved by me, you should kneel and kiss my feet you arrogant shorty!”

“Shor—”

 _“Toru?”_ the voice of Toru's girlfriend knocked their fight off, those two men flickered in confusion looking at the phone, _“You're still there?”_ she said again, full of concern for having something irregular with her phone. Meanwhile, Toru just fell dumbfounded for completely forgetting his girlfriend was still on call, _“He is not…”_ and the phone was ended afterwards. Toru tucked the cellphone in his pocket, sighed with his head beat him like crazy, stuffs filled his poor head without resting and he should endure that anyhow.

“Don't wanna call her back?” Taka asked, he was no longer controlled by his temper.

“No,” replied Toru, stepped forward because their bus was coming, Taka tailed him, “I'll call her later,” he said padding the bus ladder followed by Taka, “besides, it's getting dark, we have to make it one-off,” Toru stated, behind him Taka nodded silently, for having no energy left to put an argue, he sat sloppily right next to Toru.

Those two men sat in silent, didn't even bother to hold the inertia they might can afford and letting their body fluctuated as the bus brought them instead. “Speaking of things,” said Toru next to Taka knew, Taka rolled his eyes, staring at Toru in the corner of his eyes, “who's that person?”

“Hm?” Taka muttered sleepily. “Ah, an… acquaintance? I think there's someone with that face back then in… middle school? High school? I have no hints.”

Toru frowned, “Your hometown is in Fukuoka… well whatever.”

Taka shrugged, folded his arms against his chest, and was shutting his black eyes, “Let me sleep for a while,” said he with half-opened eyes, “it's Basser Bar, in Shibuya.”

“Why? Didn't sleep well?” asked Toru.

“Shut up,” said Taka with his eyes were shut, “I'm sleepy."

Toru didn't speak any further, he let Takahiro slept peacefully while letting his mind went somewhere, to his chit-chat with his father moment ago. Taka had committed suicide—suicides. It bothers him, Taka is just looked like an innocent, honest, and carefree person, Taka—at least for Toru—was looked like a man who will bawl his mind out, whatever his surrounding might see him. A person whose feet stood proudly and kept being himself even when his surrounding started to change drastically, he would be there, stood with his face up. So just why this kind of peaceful face while sleeping commits suicides? What troubles Taka?

Why Toru himself was bothered?

“Old man's right,” Toru huffed, he held his head up staring at the bus ceiling, “what a man…”

.

* * *

.

The trip took almost an hour to reach their destination, Taka sleepily—with crazy bed hair—stood before a building which its roof was decorated with _Basser BAR_ lamps, the bar is short, around two meters and stood between two tall building tower over it but it doesn't make the bar is looked shabby even a bit. It was gorgeous and bright, but also scary with two muscle head men stood guarding the gateway, asking the customers’ ID.

“I told you I’m fucking 25!” screeched Taka when one of the muscle head men asked his ID—which haven’t done yet—and hampered him to enter the bar. “Just ask that blond man over there,” he said pointing his finger at Toru who waited close to the gate but already entered the bar without being asked for his ID, “my ID haven't done by those shitty police, I might be older than your kid!”

“You can't enter unless you have your ID with you, brat,” said the guard insists.

“You dumb bunny,” Taka cursed hissing angrily, “Toru-san! Mind giving a hand here?”

With his titter couldn't be held back, Toru approached the detained man and the guard, “He is right, I’m a cop, I won't let an underage tailing me to a bar,” said he.

“It's still a—”

“What the ruckus?” someone said behind Toru's back. The three men twisted their neck looking at the source of the voice. A man stood there, he was about his twenties with his dirt blond hair short cut and some strand was dyed dark pink. He dressed down so no one would smell that actually he is the owner of the bar, Kohama Ryota.

“Boss, this—”

“Aren't you perhaps Hiroki-kun?” Ryota cut his guard’s words again, he rushed toward Taka and scanned the man from head to toes. “I have been waiting for you!” he said like a hyped kid. “Let him in,” Taka drew a grin, he snorted to mock the guard and swished passing the guards with his smug face was lifted up tailing Ryota—his about to be his boss. “I was amazed with your voice in that video,” said the owner; Toru frowned when he heard _that video_ , “but…” his hyped voice was no longer could be heard, he lowered his tone, “unfortunately, our band has disbanded, right after I had sent you the invitation,” said he again, keep walking to the center of the bar, where the loud music was played, people danced like no one was watching, “we have been playing a CD instead, no bands, no singer, I'm afraid you can't work here,” said he without facing Taka—whose face was saddened.

“Bu-but…” Taka stammered, his eyes became teary for knowing his hope left him, he wanted to sing so badly. But it was like the world against it, it was like he was destined to not sing again.

“Unless,” Ryota stopped his pads, he turned facing Taka, “you willingly search your own instruments player,” Taka opened his mouth, about to say he could play guitar while singing, but Ryota talked first, “I don't accept soloist, unfortunately.”

Taka lowered his head, bite lower lip, his eyes were ready to spit its salty water, but before he burst into tears and threw tantrums, Toru spoke, “I can become his guitarist.”

Taka blinked. Once, twice, and...

“Huh??”

.

* * *

_To be Continued_


	3. Three

The night went old, the moon peaked its position, the streetlamps were turned on, and Taka was in bad mood if we can't say he was mad.

Since they got home, Taka had been giving Toru his cold shoulder, ignoring every hail Toru made, and just doing everything silently. And that surely made the young cop was tired. He needed something that could freshen him a bit, even just a bit—of course not reading Taka's background report which his father had just sent him—and the white guitar of his, stood proudly on the corner of the main bedroom, untouched and inviting, burst clearly into his head. _I wanna play it…_ Toru thought fondly. He, sighing in tiredness, glanced Taka who did his duty full of responsibility—although he was in bad mood—and that’s why the mad man was in the kitchen, making their dinner, not bolting himself in his bedroom.

“Excuse my disturbance,” Toru whispered, entering his ex-bedroom. Seconds ago, he just had permission from Taka—without speaking—to break in, he knew Taka permitted him, Taka will at least speak a word if he didn't allow him to—or shook his head. Soon, his half-eyes went into full-eyes for having his new looks of the main bedroom. It was actually the same furniture with its same adjustment: bed on the right side, cabinet facing the bed, table in the between of them with the said guitar at the table's left side. But somehow, sparkling stars could be seen, blinking, blinding his eyes.

“Bloody hell…” Toru uttered, “he will make a good husband, his future-wife surely is lucky.”

He—having his eyes blinded enough—crossed the room, approached his white guitar, and was holding its neck, but he stopped when he realized one thing. Its pegs had changed. Having his old room was looked different but the same at the same time was one thing, but having his guitar—which was supposed to be never been played in two solid days—was changed in its pegs is another thing, “he played it?” asked Toru more to himself, surprised for knowing the older playing music. He observed every corner of his old room, no music-related things were there, also in his belongings, then, his eyes fell to his ex-table where the goods there were arranged neatly, and Toru’s simple mind wondered how the drawer was going. Last time he saw—used—it, it was full of paper, his old cases, his useless reports, and anything put-in-the-drawer-able things he put them in there—in messy way. As if he still owned it, he opened it. He clicked his tongue for having the paper he has abandoned was lay in order, from the biggest to the smallest, the things he never find them before was actually there from all the time, dutifully lay in their right place. _This guy surely is something…_ he thought, closing the drawer, but he stopped half-way. His eyes had caught a plastic he never saw before was lay innocently between his two towers of paper, unlawfully lay there, so he stopped.

He could hear the thumps of his heartbeat was pumped through the veins around the back of his ears, it was something belonged to Taka—something he hides. Ignoring the old people say ‘ _curiosity kills cats’,_ he pulled it out deliberately. For the third times in today, he got surprised, that thing, that plastic was actually empty, not the emptiness made Toru in surprise, but the letter forming ZOLPIDEM in its surface made him in surprise and fell speechless. He knows what Zolpidem is. He easily found it in every case he was involved. Zolpidem is one from many kinds of well-known sleeping pills, quite strong, and basically for someone who hardly sleep for having stress, depression, and mental disorder with medium level on dependent risk.

Then, a sudden realization healed him from that surprise attack.

He supposed to not be that surprised for finding this kind of thing in someone like Takahiro.

It’s common after all. No more than an old news.

Sighing, Toru placed the plastic back and closed the drawer. Anon after the light couldn't penetrate through its gap, Toru heard someone—must be Taka—came in.

“Sorry for borrowing without permission,” said the older. Toru turned around facing Taka who stood leaning against the door frame, folded hands, and with dirty apron. “I want to ask you first but my hands just… slipped.”

“That's okay,” said Toru coldly, he didn't really mind it, he could tune the guitar back, “you can use it whene—when I didn't use it.”

The older straightened his footing, walking straight to the guitar, “Are you interested in music?” asked he.

Toru didn't respond straightaway, but he shrugged eventually, “Just… so-so.”

“I see…” said Taka caressing the guitar, “I don't like you to be my guitarist if you asked me, you have no interest in music and it means we aren't in the same boat, you are not a help,” said Taka so sudden, and it seemed the latter didn't really think about it. He says whatever he wants to say. Whereas, Toru didn't answer immediately for that. He knew that without Taka's saying about how he dislikes him being his guitarist, it was clearly seen. But…

_“We don't need to be in the same boat to help each other.”_

That was what he wanted to say, but his lips were zipped and no words came.

.

* * *

 

.

“Not in the same boat…” Toru blabbered, staring at the ceiling with his stomach fully filled. The dinner after that small argue went silently with Taka was still being mad—in bad mood and Toru's mind was hooked with that emptied sleeping pills' plastic. He wanted to think that Taka was no longer distressed is all true so badly, that Taka’s suicides is all in the past, no more suicides, no more pains, no more stresses, yet, the massive, unbeatable fact struck him hard like a storm—Taka had the plastic empty. By all means, he still consumed it ‘till yesterday.

_“Why? Didn't sleep well?”_

_“Shut up.”_

No… he didn't take it last night. He _couldn't manage_ to take it.

He had forgotten that he ran out of pills, and hardly got sleep. That's why he was sleepy, that's why he was sensitive. That's why he was nowhere to be found for minutes when they were shopping—he went for another sleeping drug—pretending to get lost. Zolpidem itself isn't a drug which doctor prescribe was needed. People could buy it easily as if they were buying candies.

And that indicated Taka will consume it for tonight.

“Shit!” yelped Toru, he jumped from the bed, dashed toward the door and was slamming the door open when he suddenly got snapped, deciding to stop in half-way.

Should he stop Taka?

Taka might have been prescribed by some doctor, and that sleeping pills itself isn't too strong, it won't kill him. Even if it does kill him, all he needs to say is just... he didn't know. He knew nothing about drug things since Taka consumed it behind the closed door. Topmost, it wasn't his duty to release Taka's distress and depression. It wasn't his duty to make sure Taka won't be addicted to drugs. It was all not his duty. Taka won't commit suicide again and no one spots him as a fall guy, those were his duty.

He shouldn't stop him.

Toru sighed roughly, running his fingers through his blond made it messy. Tiredness took over his body, yet his eyes weren't heavy. He shut eyes tightly sweeping the tiredness away, and swung the door close, silently. With his heavy and aching chest, Toru looked around his bedroom, searching the white guitar he eventually brought from Taka's room, and now that white thing was leant nonchalantly against his table watching how addle-headed he was now. Sighing, he fetched the guitar, sat on the bed, and began to play it, strumming his notes, the only notes that can calm him down, with no one knows the notes, only him.

Notes without words.

.

* * *

.

Out there in the living room, Taka stood in blank face staring concernedly at his roommate’s door. Taka—holding a glass of water—was intended to walk back at his room and sleep peacefully scuttling himself in the dream world, but Toru's guitar playing had hypnotized him. Like a mouse in Pied Piper of Hamelin's story, he did stop, interested with those sounds, and declining every plan he had planned only for hearing those sounds. He stood stock-still, he wanted to break Toru's door, rushed toward the younger, and asked what the title is since he didn't know what that was. He never heard that song before, but it's beautiful.

He wanted to sing along with those notes.

Three minutes had passed, the song Taka loved was ended, and the hypnotic was also ended. Taka came back to his own self and became well aware with his surroundings now. He wanted to go back to his bedroom, but his heart insisted and his mind screamed, _Toru-san will play another song._ So he did go back to his bedroom, but to lock the door before padding approached the couch, and plopped his ass on it. In no time, as his expectation, another song was played, this time Toru played a song Taka knows. He sunk his body down, rested his head on the couch arm, and was making himself comfy on there. He strained his ears, trying to hear every strum Toru make, craving more for the sound of a guitar he had been longing for so long. Gradually, smile was formed in his lips.

“He is good…”

.

* * *

.

The following morning came as fast as the night had come. Toru was intended to have his breakfast while watching the news—his lover as its reader—and did nothing with the mad Taka. However, his plan couldn't be launched since he had the humming—merrily—Taka was making their breakfast in the moment instead of the sulking Taka he had expected of. What had happened?

“Hey, Toru-san,” Taka's voice from the distant brought his mind back to its place, he gave a hum to Taka saying he was listening whatever the smaller was up to, “why don't we try playing a song?” asked he, putting a plate contained with an egg fried, sausages, and fresh salad in front of the young cop.

Toru gazed Taka's face, trying to find a lineament of jokes, but he found nothing. Taka was deadly serious. “I think you dislike me being your guitarist?” asked Toru, turning the TV on, and searching the channel where his girlfriend was reading the news.

“I am,” said Taka lightly, “till I heard you play last night, you are quite good, it's so unexpected,” said he, sitting on his chair.

“Well…” said Toru, he was free anyway, “I'm free anyway.”

And by the time Taka nodded cheerfully, the breakfast fell silent. Toru didn't bring a talk up and just watched his girlfriend narrating something about panda's newborns and followed by an opening ceremony of an amusement park. Toru—If he could be honest—he liked this silent, Taka who busied himself with meals instead nagging over such little things. Sadly, the evil Taka wouldn't permit Toru’s pleasant feeling was lasted for good. Right when Toru's girlfriend announced today's weather condition—a bit cloudy and might be snowy—and followed by a live report of a memorial of the death of a higher-up, he said abruptly, “As I though, I don't like your girlfriend, turn the TV off, will you?”

And Toru had to hold the urge not to threw the remote to the smiling—devilishly—Takahiro.

.

* * *

.

As _Your Mightiness’_ request, having their morning routines had done, both of them sat on the carpet in the living room, with their back leant against the couch. Toru, holding his guitar, observed Taka who was overseeing his new ID—fresh from the oven—which Toru just handed it minutes ago, and that made him happy, he wouldn't be mistakenly as an underage again. Placing his new ID near him, he began to search over his cellphone finding the most suitable songs for them to play. The first thing Toru learnt from today’s lesson: Taka’s swinging mood is unbelievable. In the morning he hummed happily, then nagging at how he dislikes Toru’s lover. No too long, he lightened up again for receiving his ID, and now he busied with cursing, throwing mostly harsh words that shouldn't ever be heard by a good kid since he hadn’t found a song yet. The second thing, Taka is somewhat perfectionists. Solid twenty minutes was spent and nothing he got. Every Toru's recommendation was all rejected for having a tiny unfit thing. And finally, after Toru was getting bored and strumming the guitar randomly, that _chibi_ shoved his phone right before Toru's nose. With smug grin plastered all over his prideful face, he said, “As I said, leave the song on me.”

Toru lazily rolled his eyes and glanced the screen, it showed a list of songs which ‘Hello’ was highlighted, that was the song Taka had chosen. “This song?” Toru made sure, he did know the chords and its lyrics, he likes this song as well, but having this song chosen by Taka is something unexpected. “Are you sure? It has high notes and—”

“Are you doubting me?” behind the pillow Taka hugged, his black eyes stared directly at Toru's.

“No… just—”

“Let's play then.”

Toru knew if he didn't obey the older, they would be ended up playing nothing, so he complied—with a deep, long breath—and began to strum. Taka waited for his lines watching how agile Toru's fingers movement were. Seconds passed and the time he had to sing came, “ _Hello, it's me,”_ he began, the melody he was singing hit the notes perfectly, fit Toru’s strums nicely, as if Toru’s playing was belonged to his voice and vice versa, “ _I was wondering—_ why you stop playing?”

Toru—whose fingers didn't move any longer—got snapped, he had been seeing Taka, and the next thing he knew, Taka's eyes were on him. “Nothing… keep singing, I forgot the chords,” said he, shaking his head, and placed his fingers on the right strings again.

“Want me write down the chords?”

“No.”

Taka was looked he couldn’t care less, once again, they played. Although they had played quite nice, Toru was having a hard time to keep his fingers strum the guitar and not stare at Taka for feeling amazed by how high Taka's voice can reach, by how pure Taka's voice is. By how he felt like the singing man beside him wasn't the same man with a man who commits suicides.

“I have a good feeling for this job,” said Taka merrily when the first song was ended.

Toru observed the smaller scrolled another bunch of songs, searching for another song they might play tonight for their interview. “You were once a singer…” muffled Toru making Taka nodded without looking back at him, “why did you stop?”

As soon as Toru's lips were latched, Toru knew he immediately regretted his asking for sure.

As soon as Toru’s voice was no longer echoed within the light air, Taka's finger stopped scrolling the screen, being dead silent. All of sudden, Toru felt a heavy, really heavy air was roared from Taka. At snail's pace, Taka's eyes which just stared in the screen seconds ago was driven, looking right in Toru's orbs with somewhat cold ray. And that, those cold eyes Toru never been saw, abruptly send shivers down to his spine, made him chill of dread, shuddering. However, no longer than two seconds, Taka blinked, breaking the chill Toru was feeling off, and finally gave Toru his answer, “Do you think the world went well for suicide men?”

Gulping his spit roughly, Toru said nothing. Cold sweat drenched his upper shirt and zipped his lips tightly. Although Taka had turned back to his normal again, answered him with normal tone, scrolled the screen down, Toru was still unmoving. Feeling the shivers hadn’t gone from his spine.

_What was that?_

.

* * *

.

The night once again fell. Those two young men were in a bar instead savoring the beautiful night sky with stars plastered all over the black dark background. They’d prefer in that dimmed room where the loud music was played destructing people's eardrums, where the people dancing along following the music, and drink up till lost their mind. On the corner of that bar, stand apart from others, the owner of the bar poured somekind of alcoholic drink to their glasses, celebrating something small with big celebration.

“You two are so good!!” Kohama Ryota yelled, praising them as if he has just seen his own kids having their first step. “I can't believe you just trained once!”

Toru just silent, he couldn't blame Ryota's exaggerate reaction, he was mesmerized by the angelic voice of Taka as well and he couldn't spit a lie according to that. His silent was also caused by the cold stare from Taka he was given. Although after the shivers had gone from his spine that time and they tried another song—all chosen by Taka—he still couldn’t be freed from that dread feeling. He knew Taka was not an ordinary person, but he shouldn’t think like that. He had to protect Taka as human-human as his mission as well. He had to hide those feeling, so Taka wouldn’t figure out and eventually, they tried more than four songs successfully. Hence, no wonder this owner praised them like that. Contrary with the silent Toru, Taka stroke the back of his head, “You praise us too much,” said he bashfully, accepting another glass of liquor, handed by its own owner, even though red was already dominating his cheeks for drinking too much, “can we perform again?”

“What are you saying, Hiroki-kun?! I'll be glad if you two sing here constantly! You two are hired!” said Ryota cheerfully, pouring another liquid to his own glass, Taka's empty glass, and was supposed to Toru's empty glass as well if Toru hadn't refused it, he shouldn't drink too much. He was still on mission.

Taka drew a big, sheepishly smile, he got the job, “Good.”

“You… Yamahita Toru, if I recalled right,” Toru nodded, “can you really be Hiroki-kun's guitarist? For a long time… how about your job as a cop?”

“I’m in a free period,” lied Toru, he had to keep an eye on Taka 24/7, let's say being ‘Hiroki-kun's guitarist’ is one of his tasks.

“Fantastic! I couldn't be happier!” Ryota shouted, he, again, poured the intoxicate water. “Now drink down, it's on me.”

“Ah no—”

“Pleasure.”

Toru glared at Taka who emptied his glass in one-shot and Taka saw that, “What? I'm not a newbie at drinking,” said he placing the glass. Toru sure could see that, Taka's face was all red but his speaking and moving were all like fully-conscious man. But still, it was dangerous if Taka became a drunk-head and revealed his true identity. Why Taka could be so thick-headed about that?

“No, nothing,” said Toru, getting up from his sitting, drew the wondering looks from Taka, “let's go.”

“Where?”

“Toilet.”

Taka groaned. He and Toru already made an agreement, since they haven't trust each other—especially Toru toward Taka—they ought to go anywhere together, even when one of them had to go to toilet, so the other. And that was the third times they had gone to toilet—together.

“Such a brat I have here,” blabbered Taka following Toru's steps. He had barely dozens steps following the cop, but he stopped when a man accidentally bumped into him. “Sorry,” said Taka apologizing, he bowed and was about to make his way again, but…

“Hey,” that man prevented him to continue his steps, “you've dropped your ID,” said he. Taka turned around and immediately, he was facing an incredibly handsome young man whose hands held his ID. That man was tall, towers over him with shiny brunette hair, suited well with his actor-like face.

 _Bet he is popular_ , thought Taka after had done observing that young man.

“Hiroki, what are you doing?” called Toru from the distant, he stepped back approaching Taka and took a quick glance over the brunette. “Did you know him?”

Taka shook his head.

“Ah, I bumped into him and he dropped his ID,” said the man showing the plastic card to Taka, “Morita Hiroki-san, right?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Taka picking his ID, however, even when his hand already on the card, the young man didn't draw his hand back, still holding Taka's ID. Taka looked at the young man with frowns.

Unavoidable, Toru was alarmed, he stepped closer to Taka, be ready to the worst scenario, he narrowed his eyes toward the brunette. The one who was glared—surprisingly—just smiled, didn't feeling intimidated even a bit. He, slowly, outstretched his free hand, offering it to Taka, with a smile that maybe shines in shoujo mangas, he said, “I’m Sato Takeru,” his smile went wider, “pleasure to finally meet you.”

Taka and Toru both frowned.

Stammering, Taka collected words, “ _Fi-finally_ … meet me?”

.

* * *

_To be Continued_


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back~~
> 
> Sorry for being so damn slow, I'm preparing the entrance exam of medical college, and... it gives me a really hard time.
> 
> By the way, for reminder, this story is still taken place in 2018, both Taka and Toru are 25
> 
> Hope you enjoy the story :)

“Fi-finally… meet me?”

Taka looked at the young man named Sato Takeru agitatedly, and drew his hand back along with his ID when Takeru had it let go. Somehow Taka felt kinda nervous he never experienced before. The smiling Sato Takeru gave him butterflies inside his stomach, flying around his flank, yet he didn't know whether it was a bad thing. On the contrary with the anxious Taka, Toru was fully-armed intimidating the brunette, he sure did keep an eye on Taka all this time, in addition, Taka had been never using the phone to call or text someone—except sent a video to Ryota which was made him promised to himself to make sure he misses nothing for good, he was positive—if this man knows the true identity of Taka—he can't know Taka's true identity from Taka.

_Then, who is the taleteller?_

“Sorry for the late introduction,” Takeru set his arose hand back for receiving no reply, “I'm your new neighbor.”

Taka blinked for times to get his self back and understanding what Takeru had said, he loosened his stiffen shoulder a bit, and gradually drew a smile, “Ah… likewise…” said he, tucking his ID in his pocket.

“I was told that my neighbor Yamashita-san is a cop so I don't expect we will meet here.”

“Ah, he…” hummed Taka looking at Toru, “why are you here, Toru-san?” asked Taka.

Maybe because of the loud music, or Taka's voice that was too low, or even because Toru’s mind wasn't there anymore, Taka received no answer. Taka therefore elbowed Toru that the cop yelped loudly.

“What?” asked Toru absentmindedly.

“You're a cop, airhead, why are you here?” asked Taka tartly.

“I…” Toru blinked in nervous, he wasn't prepared with an answer, “am looking after him,” said he randomly, pointing his thumb to Taka.

Groans was released from Taka, “Yeah, right,” scoffed he rolling his eyes lazily in defeat.

“Why?”

“It is just turned out like that.”

“Are you—”

“Quit chit-chatting,” said Toru breaking in, “we have to go somewhere remember?”

Taka let an unpleasant snarl out, “Yes, toilet,” mocked Taka, “see you around, Sato-san,” said he waving to Takeru before fled away. Takeru replied him with a wave as well, seeing them off with smile.

That night, the bar wasn't that crowded that they were in the toilet not too long after changing waves with Takeru. Toilet seemed indeed their destination, but pooping or peeing wasn't what Toru intended for, instead, he pulled Taka in an empty chamber ignoring harsh words Taka had blurted. “Don't get too close with him,” said Toru after had locked the chamber, trying to keep his voice down while keeping the right amount so Taka could hear him precisely, “his face is quite familiar to me, but I can't recall when, how or who.”

Taka inclined his head, “He looked a nice guy to me,” said he casually.

“I am mingling with bad people, he might be one of those people.”

“ _Might be_.”

“Hiro—”

“Okay, okay, don't get close with him, you win, I get it,” yelled Taka, “geez, you say that as if I would.”

.

* * *

.

And it was turned out to be like that. Taka was looked very upset when Toru brought the discuss about he can't be too close with Takeru up. “He is nice not like you, besides, he is much fun to talk with, there's nothing to worry.”

“But—”

“No buts, he is nice and I like him, the end.”

“He might lie, to approach you or something like that.”

“For what?” screeched Taka whopping the table that separated them, “I have nothing to steal from.”

“Takahiro,” sighed Toru, “you are damn known as the perpetrator of car explosion, you endanger us whenever you allow someone get close to… us.”

Taka, whose eyes hadn't looked at Toru's from the very beginning their argument, looked at Toru. “Then, to whom I should talk with? Pillows? You are always not around, reasoned you were off for works but I bet you aren't,” said he full of anger. “You always hard to be approached from the start, you draw distance between us, building so fucking tall walls not letting the short me to climb. What I am expecting for when you are scared of me, when you never look at me as a human-being?”

Toru opened then closed his mouth as the evidence of taken by surprise. He didn't realize his feeling just flew through his expression that distinct when he can't even read Taka through Taka's face, _how unfair_. Then, he realized the kitchen behind Taka was changed, he was no longer in their comfy dining room, the background had changed into something else, somewhere dark, cold, slippery, and smell so bad. He was about to move around, trying to figure out where he was but he couldn't. Tall and well-set wall made by bricks surrendered his left and right side. Before him, Taka was there standing without being separated by dining table. He could hear thunders from the distant, he looked up, dark and tense cloud overspread the sky, it was going to rain.

“Taka—”

“Don't call me!” shout the older, and with totally different voice, he spoke again, “You never want me after all.”

As if a light had struck him, he opened his eyes and closed them again hurriedly, something stung his head soon after he had his eyes open and small, white lights glimmering inside his eye bags. With heavy breath and pounding head, he opened his eyes again—now slowly—glancing over the ceiling laid before him. He looked around, he was in his own warm bedroom, not in that cold, slippery, stinky and cramped place surrounded by bricks, no more thunders, no more unpleasant feeling. It was all just dream. Roughly, he exhaled, he rubbed his face harshly, _why did he dream something like that?_

“My head’s hurt…” he growled. He sat up and began thinking his dream was about, deeper and deeper he thought, it just made his head pounding crazier and feeling worse than ever. He, then, crawled over the bed pacing for grabbing some water. He was opening the door when Taka was caught dropping his phone for getting startled with the sudden opening of the door. “What are you doing?” asked Toru menacingly. Met with Taka became the trigger for the veins to throb him harder. Taka is the last _thing_ he’d expect to meet in this kind of midnight time after having a nightmare. “Can't sleep?”

“Fuck off,” barked Taka picking his phone up.

Toru didn't bother to think further what Taka had done or was doing, Taka wouldn't tell him after all. Otherwise, the CCTV around the house would tell him for sure. Pursuing Taka, compared by sending a message to his father and gained the authorize seeing the CCTV record was much less power wasting. He could deal with Taka later, his head would probably kill him by the time he dealt with the scapegoat. Unfortunately, Taka didn't think so, being sensitive could mean two things and he has them both. Susceptive and Considerate.

“You seem unwell,” said Taka with softer tone, “you okay?”

“Hm,” said Toru coldly.

“I'm asking you properly, why don't you do the same?” Taka asked, his temper raising; sensitive.

“I did answer properly.”

“You are not.”

“Then fuck off, talking to you just annoys me more.”

.

* * *

.

“I'm doomed…” Toru groaned as he sunk his head over the hard table surface. A can of coffee Tomoya bought for him was left unopened.

“You just feeling unwell that time,” said Tomoya soothing Toru by drawing little circles on Toru's back. “Go home and apologize whole-heartedly.”

Toru didn't reply. Last night, right after Toru had said something hurtful to Taka, the older was snapped, never think he would get that harsh words after giving his concern toward the other. And of course he left after said nothing to Toru. That made Toru felt at worst, he'd prefer to be thrown by nasty words come from Taka. Although sometimes he liked the silent Taka, sometimes he hated it as well. It indicated how rage Taka is. Or… how sad he is.

“He… is hard to read…” Toru mumbled from his locks, keeping his head down kissing the table. “I don't know which is lie, which is true… he barely shows me the real him, always another new faces, the new him…”

“He really never show you?” asked Tomoya healed his cigarette.

“Once, maybe… still don't know the real him,” Toru's eyes stared blankly at the wooden surface, “and it was scary—”

“ _COUGH! COUGH!_ He… _COUGH_ —what?” Tomoya get his eyes watering for two reasons, smokes got in his lens and choked by the smokes he had inhaled, “You… afraid of him? That chibi?”

“Say what you want.”

“But, Toruge, what’ve you done?”

“I asked him why did he stop singing, and he emitted me a death-glare."

“It's private you know.”

“I know.”

“So why?!” roared Tomoya in frustration. “Do you want to get close with him or what? You know you can't, haven't you learned a thing from the past?”

Toru groaned, he knew all those thing and definitely learn at least a thing from his has-been. Tomoya's saying could be easily debated yet he didn't say anything. Or to be precise, he couldn't. Something in his chest held him back to say a thing. About Zolpidem thing, about how suspicious he is when he wandered around the house at midnight time, about how scary—much scarier he is than his story when that glare emitted to Toru. He just simply can't. Although he was well-aware Tomoya was there clearly for him, ready to receive everything he spits, while he just simply kissed the table—not literally cause his nose is in the way—gave no attention toward that kind co-worker who accompanied him since all this morning. Right, he had been at the office since this morning, he couldn't resist even a minute in the same room, inhaled the same air as Taka after what he had said the night before. He couldn't face Taka no matter what. He was way too ashamed.

So he had get up really early—much earlier in the morning, had dashed toward the bathroom before Taka awoke, but unfortunately, right when he had out from bath, Taka was there, dutifully made their breakfast. With a lot of effort to hold some funny jolt inside his stomach, he called Taka out and said he will be off for office and dashed for door, leaving the absent-minded Takahiro alone. And he ended up regretting it so much. Just thought about how Taka’s face might be looked that time made his stomach clenched hurting him. That's why he wanted to go back immediately, showering Taka dozens of sorry, but apparently his plan to avoid Taka went beyond well. As soon as he stepped his foot in the office, a young sergeant told him to wait for his father. He did wait, he waited while asking for permission to look over the CCTVs, and again, he must wait, the staff who in charge was out at the moment. Again, he had his sorry(s) delayed longer.

“So you leave him alone since this morning?” asked Tomoya.

“Hm…”

“Toru, you moron,” snorted Tomoya, fished his phone and soon, sounds of a game he played was heard, “he is no more than skin and bones, how could you leave him starving to death?”

Toru lazily rolled his eyes—nose still kissing the table, “I refilled the fridge yesterday, he can cook, he won't starve.”

“He is a cook? Never expect that.”

“So do I, he is a singer too.”

“Wow,” Tomoya lauded, “such talents he has, what his name again? Hiro…ta?”

“Hiroki, Morita Hiroki,” Toru corrected. He couldn't blame Tomoya, only a little of few people knew Taka's real name, even Tomoya who cut Taka's hair have no clue about his real name.

“Yes, Morita Hiroki-chan,” Tomoya brought his head up and down, nodding exaggeratedly.

“ _chan?”_ Toru looked up immediately, it was the most weird thing of Tomoya, giving nicknames which is never suited the owner.

“Is his cooking yum?”

“Don't change the topic,” snarled he hitting Tomoya's tip head, “but yes, better than my girl—”

“Yamashita-san,” someone had interrupted their conversation before Toru could finish his saying, “you can see the CCTV now,” said the officer.

“—okay, a moment,” said he getting up and once again hitting Tomoya's back head, and tailed the officer to a room full of TVs. The officer led him to the furthest chamber; gave him a quick guidance for operating this and that and finally left Toru alone in that dimmed chamber. Toru took a look over the TVs, more than five CCTVs were installed in that house, Taka who looked suspicious last night must be recorded. “Let's see what were you doing…” mumbled Toru. He tapped some buttons, scrapping the navigation to the wanted time. Less than a minute, he found the right time, right after he went sleep; left the living room.

Yesterday, they got home pretty early night, around 11 PM. Toru—feeling his head heavy—went straightly to his bed, while Taka was left still in the living room. Toru's sleepy eyes watched the TV carefully, following Taka's entire doing. It appeared in the screen when he closes the door, Taka was padding to the couch, sat owning the whole furniture himself. Half hour before midnight, Taka left the living room for the kitchen making himself some late-snack: hot chocolate and chips, then ate them on the couch. He, once again, went to the kitchen, doing the dish, drinking water and laying on the couch again, played with his phone. Even from the CCTV, Toru could tell Taka was bored.

 _Why didn't he just go sleep if he was that bored?_ thought Toru seeing the record. Minutes passed, midnight had come, that was the time when Toru supposed to open the door startling Taka who somehow was near his door. And that’s right. Right before midnight, Taka crawled over the couch, walking to somewhere—and disappearing from that CCTV, went to another CCTV... but no, he didn't appear in other record, he still there, walking near his bedroom, back and forth while throwing glances at his door over and over again. _What is he doing?_ thought Toru seeing the screen in which Taka whose phone crashed the floor thanks to the sudden opening of the door startled. The rest were the same, him had asked Taka, a little argument, him had grabbed water, and him had left Taka to sleep. However, when he had closed the door, Taka—whom he thought went to sleep straightaway after he had said those harsh words—didn't went to sleep, instead, he went to the sink, pouring water, his hand fished something from his pants: a small bottle. Then, he opened the bottle, fished something from there, and gulped it.

Toru, for some reason he didn't know, clenched his jaw. He knew it, sooner or later he will witness Taka gulping his pills. He knew perfectly that time will definitely come, yet, his chest swelled tighten, _why didn't I stop him when I know that will happen?_ Toru lowered his gaze, no longer watched Taka who padded to his bedroom, went sleep after had switched the light off and that was the end of the record. On the contrary, exhausting day for Toru seemed to be endless, he hadn't watched the whole bunch records when some staffs called him out saying he was summoned to his father’s private office. He, then, asked someone to pack those records because he will take them home.

On his way toward the said office, he ran into Tomoya again and he just realized Tomoya was all in black since this morning. “Yesterday's memorial anniversary,” said the long haired when Toru asked him, “I can't manage to get home, yesterday's me is today's me.”

“Poor you,” Toru looked at Tomoya in pity.

“At any rate,” said Tomoya when they reached the door which was way too familiar to Toru, “you have to apologize to Hiroki-chan, seriously, I feel sorry for him.”

“I know…”

“See you around,” said Tomoya walking past Toru.

After changing waves, Toru's smile faded, he glanced the door; took a deep breath; and knocked it twice. A tired voice from inside told him to enter, at snail's pace, Toru swung the door open. He always been dislikes to face his father, every unpleasant feeling he had felt in the past flooded back, reminded him forcefully.

“What's wrong? It's supposed to be the next week I have to report,” Toru said, looking at his feet.

“I don't aim your report today,” said his father pulling the drawer near him, “I want you to take this home,” his father said again, placing a not-too-thick envelope. Toru moved forward, taking that brown envelope.

“This is…?”

“Moriuchi-kun's photos, each of them has the date when it was taken, and names of the people,” explained he, “also, have you read his personal information I've sent you?”

“I haven't.”

“Read that,” Toru nodded, obeying, “anything you must say?”

Toru didn't immediately give his answer, but he shook his head eventually, “There's none.”

“Toru, you must protect him at all costs, don't forget your mistakes last year, redeem yourself with this mission.”

Toru nodded.

.

* * *

.

Sun almost sets, Toru was standing at the door of their house, didn't dare to open the door and face Taka. Almost the whole day he spent at the office, he couldn't predict how Taka probably will react. “Be brave,” said he to himself. He let deep, long breath out, inwardly hoped his nervousness was included as well. With his free hand—his right hand was holding bunch od records and Taka's photos—he pulled the door knob a bit and peeked inside. No sounds came from inside, as if it was unoccupied.

“I'm back,” he whispered, at least he hoped Taka appeared with pissed face nagging at him, but no one came. “Is he in bathroom?”

Toru rested his hand by placing box of records on the table and explored the whole house finding his roommate, the result was that spiky black haired man is nowhere to be found. He fished his phone about to phone Taka, but instead, he had a message from Taka since half hour ago. He tapped the screen, opening the message.

_I went for walk. Won't be long like you._

Toru snorted, he took the box and placed it in his bedroom. He then looked for the envelop contained Taka's background, he wandered his hands over the disordered table like octopuses, and he found the said envelope was buried by other documents, “Gotcha!” he yelled in joy pulling it up. He sat immediately, opened the seal, fished the papers, and impatiently read the list on the first page like teenagers when opened their new novels.

**_NAME: MORIUCHI TAKAHIRO_ **

**_BIRTHDAY: APRIL 17_**

**_BIRTHPLACE: TOKYO_ **

**_SPOUSE(S): -_ **

**_FATHER'S NAME: MORIUCHI SHINICHI_ **

**_MOTHER'S NAME: MORIUCHI MASAKO_ **

**_BROTHER(S)’S NAME:_ **

                                ** _-MORIUCHI TOMOHIRO_**

                                ** _-MORIUCHI HIROKI (DECEASED)_**

**_EDUCATION HISTORY:_ **

                                ** _-KEIO ELEMENTARY SCHOOL_**

                                ** _-KEIO JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL_**

**_HEALTH CARE: ASTHMA_ **

**_ADDICTION TOWARD DRUGS: -_ **

He read the whole page, nothing missed, and this page made organs inside his stomach went upside-down. Three things made him felt like that; first, Taka’s birthplace is Tokyo, not Fukuoka as he had said when they were cutting Taka's hair on Tomoya’s place. That explained why he had acquaintance in Tokyo since Fukuoka and Tokyo was so far apart. Second, why did he choose his deceased brother's name as his name? Does it normal for some people while it doesn't for other people? And third, why did he mention _high school_ when Toru questioned him who the guy that called him out the other day even though he didn't even go there?

Toru bit his underlip, it was just the first page, the fucking first page and it already made him like that.

Somehow, by his police's instinct, he knew, he would face the Taka he never knew, the Taka he never expected for. He had to hold his feelings back or everything would definitely get worsen. He shook his head, flipping the page, this one had paragraphs, not a list like the first one, it was Taka's report for doing suicides. He started with the first word, kept moving his eyes left and right reading those sentences word by word, made sure nothing passed.

The second page informed him that Taka—that time he was still 22—was a waiter in a restaurant—a part time worker at noon, and cashier at night. He lived alone in a unit in Minato. He didn't hang out too much, nor drink, his daily filled with part time jobs and didn't socialize besides his co-workers. Meanwhile, his parents lived in Yokohama, along with his 20 years old brother, the only brother he has that time. He was arrested when he attempts his first suicide: jumping from a closed shop's roof. It was said that a cop had stopped him before he jumped. Then he was brought to police station for giving testimony, that time, he just said he was tired.

Toru flipped the third page. Two weeks after that, Taka was brought to hospital after mixing two toilet cleaners, causing some poisoning gas was formed. That time he was sent to rehabilitation, being watched by dozens of eyes. Even in rehabilitation, he tried to end his life again, he stole knifes, cutters, rope, fortunately, those was ended as attempts as well. One day, a cop—who messed Taka's first suicide up came at that rehabilitation center, he, soon, became Taka's personal keeper. The name of that cop is Shohei Miura. It was stated Taka and Miura became close in no time. He was then in stable condition with Miura by his side. A year passed without any attempt to kill himself. Yet, in December 15, 2015, he stole a gun from an officer and tried to head-shot himself but ended up shot Miura who tried to protect him instead.

_“…he did that countless times even under police's nose.”_

“So this is what old man means…” said Toru flipping the page again.

**_On December 17, 2015, Moriuchi was officially arrested for unintentional murder action Shohei Miura Officer._ **

“That's all?” howled Toru flipping the next pages in which only contained photos of the weapons Taka has used for his suicides. “The fuck—”

“Which is the fuck?”

Taka's voice was too sudden and unexpected that Toru almost jumped from his seat, almost crashing the paper.

“—Taka?”

“Yes it's me, just wanna tell you I'm back and we have to go to work,” said Taka walking away from Toru's bedroom, and shouted when he was in kitchen, “don't bother hide them from me, I won't read my own report anyway!”

Toru sighed roughly and placed the report haphazardly on the floor. Taka's coming sound wasn't heard even a step, and the next thing he knew that man already stood behind his back. He was lucky enough for being caught red-handed when reading something he didn't have to hide from Taka, what if he were reading something like… top secret of something? And speaking of which, didn't he has something to discuss?

“Takahi—”

_BAM!_

“—OUCH!” as he felt his head being split in two, his eyes watering painfully. As though his suffers wasn't enough, box he had placed scraped the table and tumbled impinging his head nonchalantly that the envelope of Taka's photos fell flapped on the floor threw its filling.

“What's that loud sound?” asked Taka coming in. Toru was getting the box of his head when Taka padded closer, hence his eyes caught five sheets on the floor, displaying familiar pictures to him, lay motionless.

The nearest to Toru was 22 years old Taka, taken when Taka was arrested for attempting first suicide, messy curly dark hair, small beard, and dimmed black eyes. Right beneath Toru's knee lay two sheets, one of them was Taka in 23, portrayed along with a man in police uniform, smiling happily, hugs each other's shoulder, and the another one was Taka in prison uniform. Next of those photos was the now Taka. While the rest one was a family of five—three sons, mom and dad; grinning in joy.

Globules of some air filled Toru's chest with pain, he didn't know how to react, nor say a thing. He was afraid those photos could be a trigger that Taka doing something. With a lot of negative perceptions, the globules slowly crept up and now was in his trachea, clogging every word he wanted to say.

Taka sighed, “Be hurry, cop-san,” said he eventually pretending to see nothing, “I'll wait in _genkan_ ,” said he and walked away. He was setting his second steps when Toru jerked him back. His eyes on Toru now, waited what the younger probably will bring up.

“I—” as the matter of fact, the globules were now gone, he wanted to apologize, very deeply and solemnly, for saying horrible thing, then spitted lies in relation to those photos, nevertheless the warmth he felt in his gripping toward Taka's wrist brought him to shut again along with his instinct as a cop’s awakening. The instinct brought him in realization that a person who walked outside on December minutes ago can't be this warm, unless that person was ill, yet Taka looked full-blooded—completely healthy like a stupid person who can’t be caught flu.

“Speak,” ordered Taka impatiently.

Toru bit his lower lip, _fine if that what you want._

With uncertain, hoarse voice, yet angry tone, he eventually spoke, “Don't fucking throw lies to me."

* * *

 

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when I can post the following chapters, so sorry, hope it won't be very long, but dunno, I promise nothing since the exam is near.


End file.
